A Very fetching Rug
by ThePurpleRose
Summary: Nathaniel, you have a very feching rug in your hall." Bartimaeus plans to bring out the Nathaniel out of John Mandrake. Involves necklaces, guilt trips, soaps, coat stands and rugs. Please read and review; it's better on the inside! FINISHED!
1. Birthdays Are Overrated

**AN: Okay, I randomly had the idea for this when I was reading Golem's Eye. I've just finished reading Ptolemy's gate (so sad!) and I thought; why not write it? So I am.**

**This is set before Ptolemy's Gate but after Golem's Eye.**

_**Disclaimer: I don't own the Bartimaeus Trilogy. I'm not Jonathon Stroud.**_

**Bartimaeus**

"Pass me that file on Ms Piper's desk." The magician John Mandrake didn't even look up from the file he was writing in, let alone say 'please'. (1) How polite.

"What's the magic word?" I prompted, changing into the form of his usual secretary, Ms Piper. (2) I knew Mandrake well enough to know that treating him like a child was a good way to get a reaction.

He glanced up at me briefly; concealing any anger he might feel. He's getting harder and harder to annoy even for a particularly talented djinni like myself. "Do your job and get me the file or I'll confine you to a smelly old boot and have Hodge ingest it," he commanded.

Ooh, that was nasty and really rather vile. To be trapped in a smelly old boot would be bad enough but Hodge! That was beyond cruel. I think it's about time someone invented djinniline. This abuse has got to stop.

I got the file but no thanks. I arranged Ms Piper's motherly face into an expression of sheer horror. "Where are your manners boy?" I chastised.

Mandrake opened the file and completely ignored me. I'll say it again: how polite.

"Fine," I snapped, reverting to the form of Kitty Jones. "If that's all you think of me! I might as well be dead!"

At that, I flung myself onto his desk and sobbed noisily. Low, I know but I was desperate to be dismissed. The second Ms Piper came back from holiday, I was out of here. I mean, _birthdays_, they're so overrated. I hope Mandrake's secretary learns to understand this soon. I've had over five-thousand birthdays and _I_ don't feel the need to become a tourist for that week!

I raised my head and looked at Mandrake beseechingly with red-rimmed eyes. He was still writing. He can't ignore me forever! I will crack him; this is abuse! I, Bartimaeus of Uruk, Serpent of the Silver Plumes who conversed with Solomon, deserve better that that!

I coughed.

Not even a twitch.

Okay, I needed a new angle. Annoying him seemed mot to be working; it was Nathaniel who succumbed to it and Nathaniel was confined within impassive Mandrake right now. I had to try something new. I had to appeal to Nathaniel. I hate to say it but I needed some sympathy!

I opted to give annoyance once last try. Still sobbing, I sprawled Kitty Jones's form across Mandrake's papers. He looked up.

Finally, I had his attention. He spoke.

"Bartimaeus, you're right in the way," he said patiently. "Move your leg."

I shook my head defiantly. "I want to be dismissed."

He sighed. "And I told you, you'll get your dismissal when I get my secretary back! Until then, you will take her place. You've got to complete your charge, Bartimaeus."

Don't I know it! I looked up at him with big, dark eyes. (3) "But I'm so tired," I said softly. I have to say, feminine voices are so much easier to turn persuasive. "I'm wasting away!"

Mandrake raised his eyebrows. "Then you can do a different task for me. The outside air might wake you up."

I increased the intensity of my puppy dog eyes and decreased the amount of fat on Kitty Jones's body for good measure.

Mandrake noticed and ordered, "I'm going to send you to pick up an order for me from Sholto Pinn." Ooh! One of Lovelace's old cronies. This could be interesting. "It's a silver necklace-"

"WHAT? (!) SILVER! DO-"

Mandrake raised a hand to quieten me and yelled above my noise, "It will be in a bag. I requested a bigger one; I was going to get Purip (4) to collect it but seeing as you're so tired, the exercise will do you good."

"I can exercise here!" I protested, leaping off the desk to jog on the spot in front of him. I, like all djinn, have an aversion to silver.

He ignored my exercise. "And change that guise or I will call ahead and have you carry the necklace in your hand."

I changed into Ptolemy's comfortable guise and set off grumbling. This called for some serious thinking. If I'm going to have to serve this magician, there needs to be some serious change going on. Yep, I've got to figure out a way to draw out the Nathaniel in John Mandrake.

(1) Isn't it always the same with magicians? Do this, do that! Don't they teach apprentices manners anymore?

(2) Well, I added glasses for an extra motherly touch and enlarged her curves a little but it was a fairly good representation of the secretary with her mousy brown hair. Why are you bothered about it anyway? It's a guise not the real thing!

(3) Don't look at me like that! I'm allowed to make subtle changes to my guise! Besides, you would've stooped to puppy dog eyes if you were in my position and don't you deny it!

(4) I couldn't help but wonder what Purip must've done to deserve that but knowing Mandrake, not much.

**AN: So, what do you think? 'Cause this is such a short chapter, I'm going to start to write the next chapter right now. Also, the next chapter gets funny so please read on!**

**I need feedback!**

**Please review! (Note: Reviews make me update faster)**

**:-p**


	2. Keeping Shtoom

**AN: I'm updating! Yay! Anyway, here is the second chapter!**

_**Disclaimer: (sniff) I don't own the Bartimaeus trilogy.**_

**Bartimaeus**

So far, I had come up with nothing. The silver necklace must have been really pure because I could feel the cold metal sapping my essence through the bag, which I held on Ptolemy's little finger to minimise contact with the offending necklace. I was so going to guilt trip Mandrake for this.

In fact, I gave Ptolemy's form a greenish hue and two black eyes to show my pain. I kept my head down and my face hidden by my hair until the necklace was dropped unceremoniously on Mandrakes precious paper file.

"You have done well, Bartimaeus," John Mandrake tells me. "Though you were a little slow."

Slow! SLOW! How dare he? I admit I did dawdle while I thought about Nathaniel-izing him but I moved way quicker than he could ever manage the lazy little human that he is. I wanted to tell him all this but I was trying to send him on a guilt trip so I just kept shtoom.

"Place it in Ms Piper's draw." No manners again! His beloved Mrs Underwood would be ashamed! I kept that to myself too. Yes, impossible as it may sound, I was actually keeping my mouth shut.

I obeyed him though it pained my essence to do so. I felt his eyes on my back as I closed the draw (1) and turned to look at him, revealing my face for the first time.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise before he control them and his mouth opened and closed a bit like that of a fish. I just stood there, regarding in emotionlessly and, above all, quietly until he managed to form a coherent sentence.

"Have you-? Was it-? Were you attacked by resilient children?" he gabbled. Was that worry I detected in his voice. It was! So there is a bit of Nathaniel in there – even if it is only a smidgeon.

I shook my head and gestured to the draw containing Ms Piper's necklace. "Silver," I told him.

He pointed to an armchair. "Sit," he commanded. "Rest for a bit. I'm not a fool, Bartimaeus; I know your essence will heal. Remember the Golems? The mercenary? His silver?"

Oh well, no dismissal for me now. John Mandrake asserted himself, but still, I know Nathaniel's in there now. Also, that was pretty good guilt tripping, don't you think.

I sat and managed a couple of minutes silence before boredom struck. I switched to Kitty Jones's form and sobbed. (2) Mandrake sighed and rewarded me with his attention. Yes!

"What now, Bartimaeus?" he enquired exasperatedly.

"What now?" I echoed. "I'm being mistreated! First you keep me here and make me serve you for _ages_ so my essence hurts, then you send me out on the streets and let me get attacked by a load of deranged commoners (3) and now, you've made me bring you silver and you've been ignoring me!"

"Feel better now you've got all that off your chest?" he says, scrawny arms crossed over his own chest.

I nodded, pouting like a sulky child with Kitty's face. "As a matter of fact, I do!"

"Good!"

"Good!

"Fine!"

"Okay then, I'm going to get on with my work."

"You do that!" I snapped, turning my back to him.

There were few minutes of silence, where I stared at the wall with my back straight and my arms crossed, mimicking Mandrake's earlier pose. Surprisingly, the silence was broken not by me but by the magician.

"Bartimaeus?" he called tentatively.

I ignored him. It felt so good to be the one doing the ignoring for once.

He tried again, this time louder. "Bartimaeus?"

I sniffed.

"Why don't you go upstairs into my lounge and watch TV for a bit?" he asked, finally acknowledging that I wasn't going to talk to him.

I took my leave, storming out. Who knew? Maybe this TV would be slightly interesting. I was going to take my chances with John Mandrake's private rooms.

The first thing I noticed about his lounge was that it was furnished remarkably like his old attic room at the Underwoods' place, complete with the vase of flowers like those that Mrs Underwood used to set out for him and the too dark oil painting that was looking rather scorched. Perhaps it was the same one, rescued from the wreckage. Perhaps not. But one thing was certain as I settled down to watch something called 'Eastenders': this was Nathaniel's room, not Mandrake's. Nathaniel was still there somewhere.

All I had to do was lure him out.

(1) Not literally. Thought I'd just spell that out for you; humans can be so dense!

(2) I know I'm not acting anything like the actual Kitty Jones but hey, it got me a reaction and reactions meant entertainment. I'm sure Kitty wouldn't mind. It's my sanity that's on the line here.

(3) Yeah, it happened about a month ago. I was just wandering along, minding my own business when suddenly; I found myself surrounded by commoners calling me "vile demon" and other things that aren't suitable for your ears and lobbing bricks at me. Luckily, I had a shield but it was still not my finest hour.

**AN: Yeah, the humour didn't quite make it into this chapter but it will surface next chapter when Bartimaeus discovers soaps, Nathaniel's furniture and a rug.**** Yep, three's the charm!**

**I still need feedback!**

**Please review (Note: Reviews still prompt me to update quicker.)**

**:-p**


	3. Mandrake and Eastenders

AN: I'm updating again

**AN****: I'm updating again! See, reviews do make me update! By the way, thanks to ****LM1991**** for that review.**

_**Disclaimer: I don't own the Bartimaeus Trilogy and I don't own Eastenders.**_

**On with the Story!**

**Nathaniel**

The magician, John Mandrake, was inwardly cursing his secretary's birthday as he adding the finishing touches to his very important file and moved on to the next task. Everything was taking him twice as long without an assistant. He had enlisted Bartimaeus but the djinni had proved to be nothing more than a nuisance, trying to trick him into dismissing it. Well, Mandrake wasn't about to be tricked. He was the Information Minister and was therefore immune to the effects of his slave.

Or so he thought.

When the djinni had looked up at him from under the Egyptian boy's dark hair, John Mandrake had felt a pang of fear and that wasn't good because the fear he'd felt was not to do with the possibility of a mass rebellion among commoners with resilience, it was fear for his slave. Fear that Bartimaeus had been hurt.

Naturally, John resolved to work even harder and faster to block out such thoughts. Bartimaeus was his slave – a demon, no less – not his friend. He was merely fretting about the security of his government. That was all.

His attention was caught by the opening of the door. His eyes found those of Kitty Jones. For a moment, he was shocked but it was not Kitty Jones; Kitty was dead. Bartimaeus had returned.

"Over it now?" the magician question.

The djinni shook its head, looking over at him with big, sad eyes as it came to sit on the end of his desk.

Mandrake sighed. "What do you want then?"

Bartimaeus burst into tears. Mandrake had had just about enough of this. It seemed that his slave had been conversing with a tap. He stayed silent, waiting for the djinni to speak.

"Natty," it said in a small voice, still sniffling.

"Don't call me that," Mandrake said in response.

Bartimaeus ignored him, breaking into fresh sobs. Kitty's knees were brought up to her chest and hugged.

Mandrake sighed again. "Look, de-Bartimaeus, I've got a lot to do today – even more while you're not doing what I brought you here to do. So just say what you came in to say and be done with it!"

The djinni looked at him, tear clinging to Kitty Jones' dark lashes. It mumbled something under its breath.

"Didn't hear that," Mandrake stated.

"I said," the djinni repeated, eyes downcast. "I'm pregnant."

The magician stared at his slave in disbelief. "What? You don't even have a body! You've got an essence! Now get that list off Piper's desk; we've got work to do.

"Fine," Bartimaeus huffed. "I knew you wouldn't care! You hate me! It's all your fault! I HATE YOU!"

Kitty Jones slammed her fist down on Mandrake's desk, slapping the list down in front of him

Mandrake raised his eyebrows. "Look, I never said I hated you."

The djinni glared at him. "If you didn't hate me then you'd actually care about me! You don't even care that my mother died or that my father's in jail or my sister committed suicide or that my brother was shot because he took a bullet for me or that my friend got eaten by that golem!"

"For a start, I read Ptolemaeus' book so I know that you djinn don't have family because you're all as one. Also, there is not jail in the Other Place. Apparently, it's all peaceful. That, I think, cancels out almost everything you just said!" Mandrake protested.

"The last bit was true," Bartimaeus muttered.

"Oh and what did I say about that guise. Change it," mandrake commanded. As Kitty Jones shifted into the Egyptian boy, a thought struck the magician. "What did you watch on TV?"

"Eastenders."

"That explains everything," Mandrake breathed as he selected the most pressing task on Ms Piper's list and settled down to do it.

He was just beginning to design the latest pamphlet for the _Real War Stories_ when his vision was obscured by a dark-skinned hand. He looked up, feeling exasperated, into the dark eyes of the Egyptian boy.

"What?"

Bartimaeus reclined on the desk. "We-ell, the main problem is that I… am bored."

Mandrake exhaled sharply. "All that pause to tell me _that_!

The djinni nodded, grinning. "Yep," it chirped. "It's very important."

Mandrake sighed, running his hand through his long dark hair.

"You know, you really should do something about that mop," Bartimaeus commented, cheerily. "Bin it like you did the toilet plunger cuffed shirt. You could chop it all off like those troops you're drawing."

Mandrake nodded. "That is actually a good idea. It will give me more popularity with the commoners."

"Thought you already were," Bartimaeus said as he watched the magician rummage through the array of paper on his desk.

"I need as much popularity as I can get," Mandrake replied, frowning while he searched.

Bartimaeus grinned. "Shame you've got no friends then."

Mandrake didn't hear him. "Go downstairs. In the hall is a leather briefcase. I must have left my notes in it. Bring the whole thing up here to me."

The djinni cleared its throat. "Cough Magic word cough"

"Now," Mandrake confirmed.

Bartimaeus tutted then turned and left.

The magician called after the djinni's disappearing back, "And be quick about it!"

**AN: Yeah, I know this one's really short (well, all of my chapters for this story have be****en quite short but still, this one's the shortest, I think) but at least it's an update. Sorry about the shortness.**

**This story has 44 hits but only one review. Reviews make me write more and make my day (as do getting favourites and Alerts) so please, if you're reading this, could you review it too? I don't mind getting constructive criticism and I don't mind if all you do is say 'hi' or that you've read it, but I'd love some feedback!**

**Thanks to anyone who has read this.**

**Please review! :-p**


	4. Fetching Like A Dog

**AN: Okay, this time I've got lots of people to thank for inspiring this update (reviews still make me write!). So thanks to: ****Hannah****, ****Amaya24**** and ****RoadRunnerKirby****. You made me grin (very stupidly even though I'm all alone in the house right now. It'd be pretty embarrassing if anyone saw). I'm also going to thank ****Katherine Burnett**** and ****Ehwaz-Ansuz-Kano****. So thank you!**

_**Disclaimer:**__** I don't own**__**the Bartimaeus Trilogy. I'd love to but unfortunately I don't.**_

**Bartimaeus**

All that effort and he didn't even lose his temper! No, he just used that stupid magician's brain of his to think his way out of it! My talents are seriously wasted on Mandrake. Get my briefcase, I ask you! Do I look like a dog? (1) I, Bartimaeus of Uruk, Sakhr-al-jinni, serpent of the silver plumes, was pretty much told to fetch.

I brought Ptolemy's hand to my head in a gesture meant to stimulate my fantastically brilliant mind to come up with something to change all this. Trouble was, I couldn't think of anything. (2) No matter what I came up with, which angle I used, Mandrake just chucked it back in my face. How much does it take to dig out Nathaniel?

I parked myself at the top of the stairs. Mandrake would just have to wait to get his briefcase; I had some serious thinking to do. Besides, if he wanted it that badly, he could get off his skinny backside and get it himself.

I racked my brains until I had to punch the wall just to vent my frustration. I wasn't getting anywhere! When I guilt tripped him, I got a little bit of Nathaniel but then I was rewarded with more Mandrake than ever. And as for annoying him, that just got him, well, annoyed.

With a sigh, I got up and descended the stairs to pick up Mandrake's briefcase. I took my time, having a good nose around the floors separating me from the briefcase. The lower levels were definitely Mandrake's domain – all clean and stylish, nothing like Nathaniel's room upstairs.

Finally, I could see the front door. The hall, contrary to the rest of Mandrake's house, was quite squished. I thought that either the shiny, metal umbrella stand that had not umbrellas in it or the shiny, metal coat stand that had no coats on it should be moved to make space for the unfortunate individuals who had to get in or out of the house.

I was paying too much attention to Mandrake's house and not enough attention to what my feet were doing. I was glad that I was the only spirit in the house; there was no-one to witness what happened. I, the djinni that had a hand in the construction of the great wall of Prague, conversed with Solomon and fought in the battle of Al Arish, did _not_ trip over my own (3) feet.

I would never live it down, but I tumbled down the stairs at an alarming pace and impaled myself on the coat stand. I cried out in pain, briefly wondering why Mandrake had a sliver coat stand and how he'd managed to earn the money to buy it, as the cold metal started to burn through my essence. I gripped whatever was in my hand tightly, trying to remove the coat stand from my essence.

The more I struggled, the worse the pain became. I couldn't get free without tearing my essence. On one end were huge silver feet and the other hand long silver branched to hang coats on. I noticed, as I gripped it even harder, that the object in my hand was Mandrake's briefcase.

The only part of my essence that wasn't blistered was the bit that had been eaten away already. Pain threatened to blind me. Everything started to go black but I held on to consciousness; death by coat stand was not a desirable way to go. (4)

I called out. Not a curse, which would have been understandable under the circumstances. Not "help", which was sorely needed. I called a name. You'd expect it to be Ptolemy with how close I was to him but it wasn't.

To my embarrassment, the name I called out was Nathaniel's.

(1) It's a rhetorical question. I thought I should point that out before you went and answered it. I know what you humans are like. Of course, I can take the form of a dog but I'm actually a djinni. You really ought to know that by now.

(2) Even the sharpest minds have their off days. My mind needs to rest! Well, you humans need sleep, don't you?

(3) Well, Ptolemy's really. Picky, aren't you?

(4) Not that it was in any way desirable to die. I was over five thousand years old and had become fond of living, thank you very much.

**AN: I know this one is mega short (it actually beats the last chapter for shortness) but it thought it would be better for me to end this chapter here****, even though it makes it shorter. I was going to continue in Nathaniel's pov with this same chapter but I decided not to. That'll be next chapter.**

**Again, thanks to everyone who has read this an especially those who reviewed. **

**I still need feedback though! If you have read this, please review; it really does make my day! Also, if I get reviews, I will write faster!**

**Please review :-P**


	5. Internal Battles and Nathaniel

AN: Yes, I know I should have updated earlier but I've been so busy

**AN: Yes, I know I should have updated earlier but I've been so busy! I've had work experience (who knew working with four and five year olds could be so tiring?! They were like little bundles of energy!) and this week's pretty hectic too! I'm at drama rehearsals on and off all day today. Tomorrow, I'm at school until 8pm doing coursework and drama rehearsals. The next day, I've got a performance in the evening. The day after that I'm going to see a musical so I won't get back until 2 in the morning. Then it's my birthday and I've got a fete on the same day! Phew! I think I'm just gonna collapse on Friday!**

**NEW AN: Sorry! It's taken me even longer than I thought it would but I've been to Rhodes on holiday then I toured Scotland with 'Comedy of Errors'. Yeah… I have a hectic life right now.**

**Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers!**

_**Disclaimer**__**: If you'd been paying attention to the four previous disclaimers, you'd know what I own and what I don't! (sigh) I don't own the Bartimaeus trilogy. So don't sue me!**_

**Nathaniel**

The finger tapping was getting rather annoying now. Sighing, the magician, John Mandrake, stilled his fingers to prevent further irritation and looked to the door. He could look all he liked; looking wasn't going to make Bartimaeus appear with his briefcase.

He sighed again. He really needed that briefcase. He couldn't continue working without it. He silently cursed himself for leaving all of his notes in it and leaving it downstairs in the first place.

Where was that troublesome djinni?

Mandrake levered himself up and made to stride to the door. He stopped himself. No, that was doubtless what the djinni wanted him to do. It wanted to annoy him. He was not going to give it the satisfaction. Eventually, the thing would get bored and come rushing back ready to start the next round – hopefully with the briefcase in tow.

Why hadn't he enlisted Ascobol or Hodge instead?

The answer was simple; Ascobol's company was dire and Hodge was just… Hodge. It would've been unhygienic to enlist him. Besides, Bartimaeus had been complaining about his service for a long time. It was supposed to be doing him good.

Mandrake half rose to get to the door again but stopped himself. Surely there was something he could be doing without the briefcase. He bent to open a drawer in his desk but paused.

He heard something.

Shaking his head, Mandrake dismissed it as nothing. After all, it was probably just Bartimaeus messing around. He had better not have moved anything. If he had, Mandrake would give him the worst task he could possibly manage. Something to do with Hodge…

"NATHANIEL!"

That was definitely the djinni that time and it had called his name! His birth name! But it sounded in pain…

Nathaniel rose.

No, it was trying to trick him into doing just that. It wanted him to go down there. All demons were evil!

Mandrake sat back on his chair.

But it could be hurt…

Nathaniel went to move.

No, it's not. It's a djinni – a demon! It has no body! It feels no pain!

Mandrake picked up a pen.

_But it sounds hurt._Nathaniel thought,_ What if it is?_

Mandrake snapped out of it. _I don't care if it is; it's a servant. Why do I even keep it? It's not even a good one and it enjoys annoying me._

_It's because I care… I like Bartimaeus. He's my friend…_

"Bartimaeus?" Nathaniel called tentatively, rising to get to the door.

There was no reply so he opened the door and tried again, slightly louder. Worry forced his heart up to his mouth.

"Bartimaeus!" he yelled, striding down the stairs to where he knew he'd left his briefcase. He just hoped the djinni was there somewhere. "Bartimaeus! Answer me!"

Still, there was nothing. Remembering the way that the djinni had cried his name, Nathaniel broke into a run, cursing himself for not replying sooner.

Finally, he spotted the unmoving form of the Egyptian boy Bartimaeus favoured lying impaled on his silver coat stand. The djinni's skin was blistered and silvery essence was seeping onto the floor.

Stupidly, Nathaniel shook the unconscious djinni's shoulder. He panicked; Bartimaeus was only being from his childhood he had left. He couldn't lose him. Not like this. Not like he had with Mrs Underwood.

Miraculously, Dark eyes opened while small, dark lips moved.

"Nathaniel?" Bartimaeus breathed.

"Yes," Nathaniel replied. "It's alright. I- I- erm… I'll get you out!"

The djinni nodded, letting out a long breath as he closed his eyes. Nathaniel tore his eyes away from the being that had saved his life so many times before; it was now his turn to do the saving.

He studied the coat stand and realised with a chill that he could not separate the djinni from the coat stand without causing even more damage. He took one last look at the broken djinni in his hall then he did what he had to do.

He spoke the words of dismissal.

**AN: Sorry again for the delay guys! Also, I've decided to do one more chapter after this one just to finish it off properly. I'm going to get that done before the Holidays end.**

**Anyway, thanks to everyone who has reviewed this fic. Next chapter, I'm going to name you all. Thanks for reading it all.**

**Please review! :-P**

**Hint: reviews make my day! They make me grin like an idiot and update quicker than I usually would even if I am ridiculously busy. Notice how I've updated this one quicker than I have a lot of the others 'cause it has more reviews.**

**Anyway, over and out until next chapter!**


	6. A Very Fetching Rug

AN: Again, it's taken me longer than I expected to update this again but at least it's not mega late this time

**AN: Again, it's taken me longer than I expected to update this again but at least it's not mega late this time. I re-read the some of Ptolemy's Gate to get into the characters a bit more before starting this. So yeah… I hope it doesn't disappoint!**

_**Disclaimer: I'm going to do this slowly 'cause if you don't understand that I don't own the Bartimaeus Trilogy by now, you must be lacking in the brains department. I… Do… Not… Own… The… Bartimaeus… Trilogy. **_

**Bartimaeus**

It seemed like I'd only been in the other place for a few seconds when the summons hit me. I usually try to resist them but I was so weak I just allowed myself to be sucked through. (1)

I materialised as Ptolemy, being too weak to change my form. If there had been any other djinn in the area, I would have been ashamed; weak as I was, I could no longer force Ptolemy's legs to support the weight of his body and I just collapsed before I even got a good look at who was summoning me this time.

I forced my eyes to open, taking a good look at my surroundings. My so-called master was there, peering anxiously at me. Well good. Let him look. It's his fault I'm like this; he's kept me in service too long. He made me weak.

A little niggling doubt pressed against my skull at that moment. He had saved me. He dismissed me but not for long. So was he Nathaniel or had the great magician John Mandrake decided to make an appearance? (2) He was definitely Nathaniel when he dismissed me.

"Bartimaeus?" he called tentatively. "Are you-"

"Half dead?" I finished for him. "Yes! I am, thanks to you!"

"Yes, I know," he managed. "That's why I brought you here. I- I wanted to say… To tell you… I-I'm Sorry."

I let out a harsh, barking laugh. "It's a bit late now, _Natty boy_, or is it Mr Mandrake today? Tell me, are you going to send me out to the commoners and let them knife me or are you going to spare them the effort and get your hands dirty doing it yourself? Decisions! Decisions!"

I will admit, I was a little harsh but I was in agony there and the way I saw it, it was all his fault. I turned two thousand years' worth of pent up pain and anger on him and watched as the colour vanished from his face. His mouth was struggling with words as a fish might writhe for water when caught. (3) Naturally, I took advantage of it and continued talking.

"That's all you do, isn't it? You make decisions and you don't care what the consequences are as long as you benefit from it. How many people do you plan to trample because you want to be the best? How many servants must you destroy?" I laughed again; taking pleasure in the boy's wincing.

"Yeah, that's right, look guilty! I think you only force me to remain here for you! You keep me here just so you can hang on to the Nathaniel you once were as well as the big bad Mandrake you've become. Well guess what Sunshine? It doesn't work anymore! No matter how long you keep me here, no matter how many times I save your sorry butt, no matter how hard I try to change it, you're not that boy anymore! With all of the things you've done, Mandrake has eaten away at Nathaniel until you're left with the power-hungry magician that stands in front of me now. Nathaniel is gone! He's faded away and now there's nothing left of him!"

As I ranted, I realised that I was ashamed of him. I could no longer bear to look in his direction. I had thought he was different but obviously, I was wrong. And it hurt. It hurt to look at him and know the Nathaniel he could have been and the John Mandrake that he has become.

Then I realised something else.

A warm hand came to rest on my back. I jumped, turning my head to see my master there – in my pentacle! He had left his pentacle. But even if I had enough energy left, I couldn't bring myself to hurt him. He looked too much like Nathaniel and, somehow, after separating Nathaniel from Mandrake, I couldn't stand the thought of Nathaniel being hurt.

"You?" I questioned, meeting his gaze. He had been crying. I had made him cry.

He forced a small, false smile. "I wasn't standing in a pentacle."

I looked to where he had been standing. Sure enough, there was no pentacle. Why?

"Why not?" I asked.

He shook his head, a particularly stubborn tear drop spilling over his cheek and landing on my back side. "Because I deserve it," he explains, his voice laced with hatred. "I wanted you to be able to hurt me. Go on, do it. After all I've done I deserve it."

Probably for the first time in my long career, I was speechless. I didn't know how to respond. He was asking me to hurt him. He actually wanted me to devour him! But I didn't want to…

His eyes never left mine. "What are you waiting for?" he snaps. "Why aren't you doing it? I've been an idiot! I've hurt you! You said yourself! I did this to you! Hurt me! Kill me, if you must! DO SOMETHING!"

That last bit was screamed at me with such force that I actually recoiled. He was crying again. I could feel his tears; he was so close now that they were dripping onto my neck. Of course, that was because of gravity where he was leaning over my guise where it lay on the floor.

Looking into his face, I noticed that it was finally sinking in. I had finally got through to him so now he knew what he had become and it was destroying him. I was compelled to do something about it. Me! Bartimaeus of Uruk, the serpent of the silver plumes! Comforting a human? Not behaviour my reputation could live with. So I remained where I was and watched however much it actually pained me to do nothing.

He was looking me directly in the eye now. "Why? Why did you let me do it? How could you… I… Why didn't you stop me? Why didn't anyone stop me?"

This time, I had no problem finding my voice. "I tried! You didn't listen! You never do!"

"No. I – I," He stopped, grabbing me and pulling me to him. "I'm sorry Bartimaeus! I'm so sorry! I just… I…"

He dissolved into tears, sobbing into the hair of Ptolemy's form. I raised my arms, wrapping them around his back.

"Nathaniel, I forgive you," I told him. (4)

I was so tired. Being on earth after losing that much essence was painful and I felt weak, so ridiculously weak. I let myself go limp, depending on Nathaniel's arms, which were wrapped around me, one holding my head, the other between my shoulder blades, to stop me hitting the floor hard.

Fortunately, they did lower me to the floor gently. Nathaniel spoke.

"Bartimaeus?" He sounded worried.

"Hmm?" I answered (5).

He enquired, "Is there anything else you want to say before I dismiss you?"

I managed a small nod. "Two things: One, You've got to promise to summon me again once my essence has healed sufficiently, (6) and two, you've got to remove that silver coat stand. I would hate to be someone who regularly had to use that front door; how would you like shimmying past a whopping great coat stand that has no coats on it? It's not even needed!"

"Yes," Nathaniel decided. I felt him move away from me, presumably leaving the pentacle to dismiss me, and forced my eyes open again.

He was about to start his dismissal but I interrupted.

"Nathaniel," I said, grinning. "You have a very fetching rug in your hall."

As he spoke the words of dismissal, catapulting me into the Other Place, I added in my head, "_With my essence all over it._"

I'm almost certain I left half my essence on the rug.

(2) You can almost see the sarcasm dripping from that statement, can't you? I meant the question though. I swear that boy had more personalities than I have guises!

I know, confusing analogy but it made sense to me. Oh fine! He was gaping okay? I was only trying to add a little description to your lives!

(4) I'm not very good at all this touchy feely stuff. Well what do you expect? I hated most of my masters and djinn don't get upset in the other place.

Very eloquently, I might add. I was practically passed out on the floor, you know. You have to cut me a little slack. Besides, I conversed with Solomon; I did it in style!

Note that I didn't add to gloat and annoy you some more because I now have something to guilt trip you with and I was also curious as to whether or not that meant Nathaniel was back for good. Oh well, you humans should learn to read between the lines.

**AN: This is the longest chapter of this story! So what did you think? Unless you're anonymous, I will reply to any reviews this last chapter gets. Remember, they still make me smile!**

**Anyhow, I was wondering, after reading the reviews of chapter one again, if I should write a one-shot in which Bartimaeus actually calls djinniline. So if you could tell me what you think about that too, it'd be great!**

**THANK YOU! To everyone who has reviewed, favourited or subscribed to this story! And thanks also to anyone who reviews this chapter. If it wasn't for you, I might have forgotten about this story. You prompted me to update!**

**I shall list those people here:**

**xDrEaMeRx4xEVA**

**LLAMAS WILL RULE THE WORLD**

**Arthuria Parmentia**

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**nats-stars**

**Harzh**

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**BartimaeusRules!!**

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**anonymous?**

**LM1991**

**anonymous - **** Is this the same person as the one with the question mark? I'm putting this here just in case it isn't.**

**amaya 24**

**It's great to know so many people like this story. It's good that the pregnant bit shocked a few of you and that you liked Mandrakes inner battle (I loved writing those bits too).**

**Anyway, over and out!**

**Please review :-P**


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